


Playing with Fire

by NerdyPanda3126



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Accidental Marriage, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Cursed!Marinette, Dragon!Luka, Endgame Luka Couffaine/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, F/M, It'll Pick up, Mentioned Sabine Cheng and Tom Dupain, Slow Burn, Sorcerer!Jagged Stone, Tags May Change, i guess?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-16
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-18 13:46:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29490789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NerdyPanda3126/pseuds/NerdyPanda3126
Summary: Marinette was cursed by a dragon when she was a small child; every night she's engulfed in flames that are beyond her control.After cursing her, the dragon stayed close, endlessly circling a stone tower at the top of the mountain. Eventually a handsome reward is offered to remove the dragon's threat from the village. Many had already tried and failed.After almost burning her parents' house down, Marinette decides to try for the reward to repair the damage. Who better to kill the dragon, Marinette reasoned, than a girl who's already on fire?
Relationships: Luka Couffaine/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug
Comments: 51
Kudos: 94
Collections: 2021 Exchange





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Bloody_no_Kissu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bloody_no_Kissu/gifts).



> Hope you had a Happy Valentine's Day, Bloody_No_Kissu! I stepped in as your secret admirer 😁💖
> 
> The prompt I chose to go with was: fantasy, the princess falls for the dragon instead – marinette is a princess and bc of a curse she is locked in a tower with a dragon (luka). while she waits for the destined knight to save her from her curse she spends more and more time with luka. they fall in love.
> 
> So I did take a few liberties on this to weave it together, but I really hope you like it! Huge thanks to [hopedespite](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hopedespite/pseuds/hopedespite) for the beta read on this!

Marinette had been told the story of her curse so many times she could recite it by heart. 

“You were a baby,” her dad would tell her. “A tiny little thing, still all wrapped up in diapers. And that… _thing—”_ he always growled at that, as if the dragon she’d been found curled up with had personally insulted him. He would shake his head, and give her a pitying look. “—It _stole_ you from us. And by the time we found you, you were already cursed… already...” he would gesture to her at that point, indicating the way she was every night as soon as the moon slipped above the horizon.

Every night she was engulfed in a blue flame that made it impossible for anyone to come near. Impossible for her to be touched. 

What she was never able to find out, though, was _why._ Why the dragon had apparently chosen her to curse, why it hadn’t killed her outright when she was barely out of diapers. Why she kept dreaming of sleeping safely within its coils, her fire cooled as if that was where she had always belonged. 

She knew where it lived now. Everyone knew. It had taken up residence in a lonely tower high up on the mountain. Everyone said it was guarding a valuable secret; why else would it be there? Of course, people had tried to find out, although they often came back singed and babbling. Something about a dark sorcerer or a beautiful prince or a shapeshifter or… the stories always varied. 

Finally, a reward was offered. The dragon had been a menace for far too long, the writ proclaimed. Anyone able to bring back its head would be handsomely compensated.

More people flocked to the cause: soldiers from far away places wearing shiny armor and bearing sharp, glinting swords, sorcerers with staffs and books claiming they had this method or another to calm the beast. None of them returned. 

Night after night, Marinette’s flame burned hotter, brighter. And night after night she dreamed of the dragon. She couldn’t tell anymore what was memory and what was a dream. She thought she remembered the dragon plucking her from the river she’d fallen into, breathing life and fire into her lungs, curling up around her to keep her warm until her parents found her. But that couldn’t have been true. The dragon was dangerous, everyone said so. And it had left her with this unbearable curse. 

“I’m going after it,” she proclaimed to her parents after the worst night she'd had in all of her eighteen years of bearing the curse. 

Her dreams had been strong that night. She had awoken to her mom shaking her, screaming, desperately pleading with her to wake up. Her hands and arms up to the elbows had been irreparably burned in the process. It wasn't until Marinette had struggled into consciousness that she realized she’d been burning their house down in her sleep. 

Her parents shared a look after her declaration. One of, “We shouldn’t let her, but what else can we do?” 

Marinette winced as she caught a glimpse of her mom’s burned forearms, still wrapped in bandages and salves to soothe the shiny, blistered skin underneath. Her eyes slid over to the corner where she slept, with only her silhouette outlined in the charcoal her fire had left behind. 

“I have to do this,” she said resolutely. “If there’s one good thing to come of this—” she gestured to herself and to the flames that spit and crackled around her “—it means I can’t be burned if I go at night. With the money, you can fix what happened. I'll stay in the stone tower after the dragon's gone where I can't hurt anyone else. Everyone wins," she finished glumly. 

Her dad sighed in resignation and wrapped an arm around her mom’s shoulders.

So the next day just before dusk, they packed a meal for her to take with her, kissed her fondly on both her cheeks, and waved goodbye as she started up the path. 

For it _was_ goodbye. A sacrifice Marinette was more than willing to make. 

As she trudged up the mountain path, the forest grew darker and more foreboding. The only saving grace was that as the light faded, her flame started burning, providing her with light to see by, although she did catch a branch or two on fire as she went. She poured her water out carefully on each one, putting it out without wasting her own resources. If she ran out before she made it to the stone tower, it was entirely possible she’d burn the entire forest down, and it would spread back to her village, back to her parents’ house. 

She soldiered on, even as brambles tore at her skirt and arms, as she grew weary of walking, as she ran lower and lower on life-saving water. 

It was the dead of night when she finally reached the tower, and the dragon wasn’t anywhere in sight. She walked up to the tower using the flagstone path, admiring the well-manicured garden from afar. The tower was quiet, almost as if it was slumbering along with the dragon.

She ran her hand along the cool stone wall as she mounted the steps one by one, dreading what she might find when she got to the top. 

Halfway up, though, she ran into—well, if there was a beautiful prince trapped here, then it must be him. He was tall and pale, with a shock of dark hair and enthralling blue eyes framed by deep purple circles, as if he never slept. He seemed startled to see her at first, though she was used to that. A girl on fire was a startling sight.

But then he reached out a hand, smiling. She flinched away from him. His kind smile shifted to sympathy and he dropped his hand. 

“That’s quite a power you’ve got,” he noted easily. 

She shifted uncomfortably away from him. He didn’t seem affected by the heat she always emanated, but she was still careful not to get too close to anyone. 

“The dragon cursed me with it when I was a small child,” she said.

His head quirked sideways, as if he were appraising her or trying to remember something. When he didn’t respond, Marinette tried again. 

“I’ve come for the reward. Is it asleep?” 

“He,” the man said stiffly. “And he’s gone for now. He disappears at night. You’re welcome to come back in the morning to try your luck.”

There was a note of despondency in his tone, and he scooted past her in the narrow stairwell to continue on his way down. 

She considered continuing up the stairs, but if the dragon was gone, there was no point to it. She hesitated before she followed him—the prince, he had to be—down and back outside. 

There was a pool of moonlight in the very center of the garden, and he walked over to it and lay down as if basking in it. The sigh he let out was at once content and terribly lonely. For some reason, it pulled at her heart. She knew that feeling. She had come to terms with her curse, with her lot in life. But that didn’t make it any better when she was unable to sleep soundly without worrying about her flames burning out of control.

She came as close to him as she dared and sat cross-legged on the flagstone path. 

“You’re not… trapped here?” she asked. Every story she’d ever heard of the handsome young prince was that he was trapped, doomed, kept prisoner by the monster. 

He didn’t open his eyes, but he smiled again. “Oh, I am.” 

“But…” she glanced around. There were no fences, no guards, no magical barriers. She had walked right in, after all. “Can’t you just… leave?” 

He did open an eye at that. “Can’t you just… put that fire out?” He smirked before he closed his eyes again and settled with his face towards the moon. “I’ve been trapped here for longer than I care to remember and now…” He looked over at her again, his blue eyes glinting in the moonlight. “So are you.” 

She looked around again. Still, nothing that would prevent her, or him for that matter, from leaving. He sighed. 

“The dragon, he’s been waiting for you. That… well, some probably call it a curse, but it's more like a bond.” 

“A bond?” 

“You were a small child, you said? When it happened?” 

She nodded, and he nodded back in answer. 

“The dragon was young, too. A child in his own right. He wouldn’t have known…” He sighed and closed his eyes again. “He wouldn’t have known that if he shared his breath with a human, he’d be claiming them. Bonded with them for the rest of his life, tethered to them. Cursed to share a half-life with them.” 

“I’m… sorry... “ She struggled to comprehend what he was telling her. “You’re saying… I’ve been claimed?” 

“If I had to guess, I'd say your fire only burns at night, right? As soon as the sun sets? Maybe only while you slept at first, but it's gotten worse lately?” 

She blinked at him. Her mother’s burned arms floated back to the forefront of her memory. 

“You have a fire burning in you that’s never been yours to control. If you had stayed away from him any longer, you would’ve burnt out of control until everyone you knew and loved was dead. You’re his and he’s yours, for better or worse.” 

“I… wait… you’re saying…”

“You’re intended to be either the dragon's bride or his killer,” he finished bitterly, turning his head away from her. “Not that he has much say in the matter, either, if it’s any consolation.” 

“But if I do… kill him…” she started, grimacing at the thought, “do you think that would lift my curse?” 

“Yours and mine, too.”

“You don’t look very cursed to me,” she muttered. Other than being trapped, as he’d claimed, he seemed perfectly normal. Every bit the beautiful prince she’d heard tales of. With the moonlight falling over him, he was paler still and he looked like a marble statue that had fallen on the ground. His shaggy dark hair flopped over his ears in ragged lines, and even resting he looked tense.

To her surprise, he started chuckling, although there wasn’t any mirth to it. 

“What’s funny?” 

“Nothing,” he said, although he sat up and faced her. “I just wonder if you’ll still think that in the morning.” 

“What happens in the morning?” 

“The dragon comes back,” he said simply, and he pushed himself up to stand. “If you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll turn in. I have a feeling I’ll sleep better knowing my savior has come at last.”

He quirked his lips in a funny sideways smile, then offered her a hand again. She shook her head at him and he rolled his eyes.

“It’s okay,” he said. “I promise.” 

She hesitated. The fear of hurting him flared strong and her fire started flickering and sputtering along with her anxiety. His eyes softened, and he reached forward, into her aura of flames. To her complete and utter surprise, his hand came through unscathed. 

“I told you, it’s okay,” he said. 

Stunned, Marinette laid her hand in his and he helped her stand up. Her fire raced along his arm and arced over his body until he was just as engulfed as she was. But rather than being harmed by it, it seemed he was helping her with it, sharing some of the burden. In fact, when he released her, she looked down at her hands and was shocked to find that the moonlight was the only thing illuminating them. 

She looked back up at him and he smiled, although it was still tinged with sadness, and he gestured with his head to the spot of moonlight that still spilled across the grass.

She ran, giddy to be released from her curse for the first night in her entire life and fearful that it would come back before she could race back to the safety of the stone path. As she rolled in the cool grass, she couldn't help the giggles that escaped her, the pure bliss of being safe under the stars overtaking her. When she finally stilled, she sighed as she looked up at the bright, twinkling lights, unobscured for the first time. They were so clear, all the way up there, like she could reach out and touch one. She lifted her hand up and pretended she could, cupping the full moon between her hands as if she held it close.

She’d gotten so used to the flames crackling around her that without them the world seemed deathly silent. Peaceful, but eerie. 

When she sat back up and turned to look back at the path, she found that the prince had disappeared. To turn in, as he’d said, although he hadn’t told her where she might sleep.

She looked at her hands again, so foreign to her without the bright blue flames. They looked smaller. More fragile. 

Suddenly, she realized that was the one thing protecting her from the dragon. The reason she’d felt so confident in coming up here. She couldn’t be burned at night because she was already engulfed in flames. But he’d taken her flames away. He’d gifted her the ability to roll in the grass without burning anything down, sure, but he’d also stolen her protection. 

Even though her flames weren’t snapping around her, she felt the panic rise up in her chest. What if he was a dark sorcerer after all? What if it was his job to lure people here and steal their power? What if this had all been a trap? 

She stumbled to her feet and clenched her fists. He’d seemed so kind. She’d trusted him. She hadn’t thought he would steal from her.

She marched back inside, uncaring if the grass sizzled under her feet or not. The tower stairs only went up, so she followed them, winding her way up to the top, unsure of what she might say or do if she found him, but certain that she had to find him regardless.

The sound of heavy, deep breathing hit her first. It wasn’t human, that was for sure. It was something much bigger. 

She tiptoed around the last bend, her fear climbing with each step.

A large room at the top came into view. One wall was completely open, and there was a huge, sleek, black, serpentine figure wound tightly around itself in the moonlight that spilled into the corner. One wing was draped over its head, like a curtain.

She held her breath as she backed out of the room. 

Hadn’t he said the dragon wouldn’t come back until morning? Hadn’t he said it disappeared at night? Hadn’t he said—

She cursed the dark sorcerer, the beautiful prince, whoever he was, under her breath as she turned and tripped her way back down the stairs. He had also said she couldn’t leave, but based on the way he’d lied about everything else, that’s exactly what she would do. She would run, all the way back to her parents, to her village, even if it meant sleeping on a stone bed the rest of her life. 

As she ran towards the forest, her steps started sizzling underneath her again, and her hands started to flame up before she could stop them. Her tears dissipated before they even had a chance to fall. 

From the top of the tower, she heard a strangled cry, still inhuman, but closer to it, and filled with pain. It spurred her on, although the fire was starting to burn white around her hands, stinging her painfully, and she shook her hands, trying to put it out. The farther she ran, the more the fire seeped into her skin, making her cry out. 

There was a great whoosh of wind behind her, then footsteps, matching her pace, although more spread out. The pain was blinding, but still she pushed on against whatever unknown barrier was causing it. She cradled her hands to her chest and struggled as each step forward was now a shooting, searing, white-hot bolt of pain through her. 

Strong hands caught her from behind and pulled her backwards—the hands of the dark, beautiful sorcerer. She kicked against him, trying to pull away, but he held fast. The pain behind her eyes cleared and she realized he was taking the fire away from her again. 

“You… can’t… leave…” he huffed as he dragged her backwards. She tried to claw away from him every step of the way.

Finally, though, he’d pulled her back to the clearing and dropped her on the stone path unceremoniously. She bolted back up to her feet and he caught her around her middle and shoved her back down, moving at the same time to stand in front of her and block her path. 

“You can’t leave,” he panted again. “Or we both die.” 

“I’m supposed to believe you’re kidnapping me for my own good?” she spat and scrambled back to her feet. “And who the hell are you, anyway?” 

“Sorry. Luka. I’m Luka.” He held his hand out for her and she smacked it away. He winced. “You have every right to be upset. But listen to me. I’m just trying to protect you. You can’t leave this tower without me.” 

He was still trying to catch his breath, and she noticed for the first time that his eyes had changed to serpentine slits and there was a distinct black sheen on the backs of his hands that worked its way up his forearms.

As she watched, he grabbed her hand and shivered as she was once again engulfed in blue flames and he returned to normal. 

"We're connected," he explained softly. "We share the fire. It's mine in the morning and yours at night. Now that you've come here, you can't leave unless you're either with me or there's no fire to share, or it rips us both apart. So for your own sake, you either stay put or you kill me, do you understand?"

He released her hand, and she looked at them incredulously. That he'd taken her fire away and given it back was proof enough of what he was saying. 

"Kill you?" she asked, his words sinking in through the remnants of pain behind her eyes. "As in… you're the…the...?"

"Yes."

"But you're…" she gestured to him, to his humanness, and he shifted uncomfortably under her bewildered gaze. 

"I know. Like I said, it's yours at night. That was the first time in 18 years I've had the moonlight on my scales." 

She gasped for breath as her fire started spitting around her, casting off sparks that came dangerously close to the grass. "I can't… you're human, or half-human or… I can't… I can't do this!" 

"That's okay. Hey. It's okay." His hands hovered over hers, not quite touching her, leaving her fire with her. "What's your name? Can you tell me your name?" 

"Ma-Ma-Marinette…" she stuttered as she attempted to keep breathing. 

"Okay, Ma-Ma-Marinette." He smiled, trying to put her at ease. "Let's just take this slow, okay? Would you be willing to stay here tonight with me? We can talk more in the morning." 

"You're a dragon in the morning," she said, then a hysteric giggle burst out of her at how ridiculous that sounded. 

He chuckled with her and laid the back of his hand against hers. As her fire arced across to him, his eyes turned into slits again and his scales slid over his arm. "I don't have to be anymore." 

She gaped at him as he pulled his hand away again and slid back to humanity. 

"One night. That's all I'm asking." 

Her dream popped back in her head and she blushed even before the question was out of her mouth. "If I sleep… you know, touching you, or like, against you… would that…?" She gestured to the fire still burning around her and then to him. 

He smiled again and chuckled nervously. "Yeah, I think so. But everything's stone, so you won't burn anything down if you'd… you know, if you'd rather not." 

She considered for a moment until her curiosity got the better of her.

"One night," she agreed.

He let out a sigh of relief and gestured for her to lead the way. 

As she mounted the stone steps again, her fire—his fire, she corrected herself, he'd shared it with her—bounced off the smooth stone and flickered along with her nerves. This time at the top of the stairs, she paused to look at the room Luka had called his own for 18 years.

There was a nest of pillows piled in the corner, a stack of books with open pages fluttering in the breeze that flowed through the wide opening, a lyre leaning against the smooth wall, and bits and pieces of armor lined up along the wall like trophies. She recognized a few here and there and gulped. No wonder they hadn't returned. 

She half-turned to him, her question dying in her throat, and he pressed his lips together in a thin line.

"Tomorrow," he said, gesturing for her to continue past everything. She did, but paused before her flames touched the pillows. 

"Here," he said, and threw out a hand for her to take. Tentatively, she took hold of him and watched as he shivered and his transformation took hold. 

He kept eye contact with her as scales slithered over his arms, his hands turned to claws, wings erupted from somewhere around his shoulders, and his body elongated until it was a solid length of powerful muscle.

She slid her hand to what was about his neck and he blinked slowly at her before lowering himself to the pillows and coiling his body tightly around itself, tucking his legs in what seemed to be a familiar position. 

It was a bit awkward to maneuver herself into his coils without taking her hand off him, but they managed and he draped his wing over her, for warmth she assumed, because the breeze that was drifting in was nipping at her exposed skin. And he was warm, she realized, like having his fire returned to him made him a living furnace.

She could see it, when she twisted to look at him: a deep blue illuminating the thinner skin at the base of his neck and flaring brighter in his chest as he breathed. 

She curled into him and fell asleep with his deep, heavy breathing in her ears and his sleek scales shifting under her hands. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after Marinette discovers she's bonded to Luka—who is, in fact, a dragon—he gives her some answers and a choice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, don't get too used to this updating schedule 😅 but after that first chapter I just kinda kept going and I had to get everything down before it disappeared lol

She woke draped over his human form, in the middle of a fire that was on its way towards sputtering out. The pillows had been the kindling and she jolted awake as she realized that she was on fire in broad daylight. 

She shook his shoulder, panic making her flames sputter and spark erratically. He woke slowly, and seemed confused to see her until he looked down at himself and around where they’d been lying together. He sighed and laid his head back down. 

“Didn’t think of that,” he grumbled before he sat up, keeping a firm hold on her hand. She shook her free hand in his face frantically, unable to form words, and he blinked as he caught on to her panic. 

“It’s fine. You’re fine.” He held up their linked hands, as if that proved or explained something. He sighed again when she let out a strange little squeal and her flames burned hotter. 

“Meet me in the courtyard, okay?” he asked gently, then purposefully dropped her hand. Instantly her flames went out and he shuddered into his dragon form again. 

He jerked his head towards the open window before he shrugged his wings open and leapt off. She watched him glide gently to the ground and land, folding his wings—irritably, she would call it, although she had no clue what mannerisms to look for on a dragon. She raked her fingers through her hair hurriedly, wishing she’d thought to bring something to tie it up with, and scrambled down the stairs to meet him.

She started towards him on the grass, but he huffed out a small plume of smoke as soon as she tried to take a step off the path. She tried again with the same result and understood him that time. _Stay where you are_. She nodded and he loped over to her. His movement in this form was fascinating, like a cross between a prowl and a slither, smooth and powerful. He came right up to her and pressed his head into her hands. 

And she understood why he’d wanted her to stay on the path. As he shed his scales, she burst into flames. She blushed as she found that she was holding his face between her hands and her fingers were digging into his hair before she could stop them. He gave her that small, tentative smile of his as he laced his fingers through hers and pulled her down to sit across from him on the stone path. 

He put both of his palms against hers and caught her in those earnest blue eyes. 

Wordlessly, he pulled one palm away from hers, causing a bridge of fire to open up between them.

He pushed the flame back to her and pulled his other palm away, creating an easy rhythm. She followed his lead, marveling at how easily the fire was channeled between them. She'd never been able to control it like this before, to make it do what she wanted.

"Think of it like a current," he started. "The stronger the bond between us, the easier the current. Right now, our bond is brittle. Instead of a steady flow back and forth, it's almost like we cancel each other out. It makes us switch on and off. Does that make sense?” 

“Cancels out,” she repeated in a daze. “Got it.” 

"It'll take practice, and time, but eventually, if you choose to stay here, we might be able to share it without touching. To pass it between us—" he pushed his palms back to hers and closed the circuit "—without even thinking about it."

She pulled her palm away from his again, leaving only the tips of their fingers connected, and watched the sparks that built up into a ball between them. She could sense his eyes on her, although she steadfastly ignored falling into them again. 

“If you have questions,” he murmured after a moment. “I might have answers.” 

She lowered their hands. Her throat had gone entirely dry. There was one question above all others that burned to be asked. 

“Why?” 

He looked up at her briefly through his ragged hair before he dropped his eyes to the ground between them. She wasn't sure he'd understood her until—

“I didn’t know,” he whispered.

“You cursed me.” Her words came out as more of a sob and he winced. 

“I cursed myself, too, remember?” He pulled one hand away from her and leaned back on it, letting the sunlight hit his face. “I’m not supposed to be like this. Trapped, grounded, _human_." 

She bristled at that. "Being human isn't a bad thing." 

He shot a sharp glance at her. "No fire. No claws. No wings. No _fangs_ even. So fragile." He shook his head. "Humanity is a curse in itself." 

"I guess it makes sense, then, why there aren't more cases like ours," she said, allowing her anger to seep into her tone, "since humans are so far _beneath_ you mighty dragons."

“I’m sure it was more common, at one time." He half-shrugged and turned to smirk at her, either unaware of her discomfort or choosing to ignore it. "Why do you think there are all those stories of young maidens and strapping knights being sacrificed to placate the evil and terrible dragon?” 

He imitated fangs with his fingers and snarled at her, which made her laugh despite herself. His smirk warmed to a smile before he looked away again. 

“It was supposed to be a mutual decision. I know that now. A… pact, or a promise. I've heard humans have something similar, sealed with a sharing of breath." 

She paused to think. Sharing of breath. Other than breathing for someone to save their life, the other cause for 'sharing breath' was—

"You mean like a… kiss?"

"I think so." 

"A promise sealed with a kiss… You're talking about a wedding. You're saying that—" she swallowed against what was now an uncomfortable feeling of cotton stuck to the roof of her mouth.

He waited while she started and stopped several times before she finally found her voice.

"You mean to say… in dragon terms, we're married? And have been since I was… since you were…" She gestured with her hand low to the ground, her words failing her again. 

He hesitated, his brow furrowing at her panicked tone. "I take it that's a bad thing?" 

Her fire started sparking and sputtering and he seemed at a loss for how to comfort her. Finally, he opted for looking away from her and squeezing her hand. 

"I don't know if it's the same, but what we have, it's a way for a dragon and a human to share a life together if they wanted to. The human is protected, kept safe—” he winced at that “—or at least what a dragon would consider safe. Fireproof, kept close, given a defense. And the dragon is able to live a mortal life, age along with their intended, spare them the heartache of being alone for eternity. It’s… mutually beneficial.” His face pinched as if his words were bitter on his tongue. "And it's for life." 

The flames licking around her were turning white and threatening to overtake the stone path. Married. To a dragon. For life. Words that should have meaning, but strung together made no sense. He squeezed her hand again to try to comfort her and she barely felt it. 

There was a pause between them and he focused on placing the tips of his fingers against hers, pulling each finger away one by one and watching the spark dangle between them. 

“I thought I was saving you,” he finally said, answering her question at last. “I saw you fall into the water. I fished you out and you were so small. So helpless—" his eyes flicked up to hers beneath his hair. "So fragile. You were ice cold and you weren't breathing. So I breathed for you. I kept you warm. When the other humans came and found you, I thought that would be the end of it.” 

She waited, holding her breath, the fire crackling in her ears, for him to continue his story. 

“It wasn’t until I tried to fly away with my family that—” His voice broke and he cleared his throat, leaning back and away from her again. “I got stuck here. The end of the tether between us. When my mother realized what I’d done, what had happened…” He shook his head. “There was nothing she could do. Staying so near the village would’ve endangered her and my little sister.” 

“You have a sister?”

“I have a sister.” He smiled sadly. “Or at least I did. I don’t know where they are now, or if they’re okay. I haven’t been able to leave and they’ve never come back. One dragon draws enough attention near humans, if you haven't noticed, let alone an entire family.” 

“You’ve been alone? All this time?” 

“Not entirely. I’ve had a lot more visitors lately, of the knight in shining armor variety.” He grimaced. “I tried to drive them away, but they saw a huge, dumb, fire-breathing lizard and I had to—” He stopped himself and hid his eyes behind his hair. 

“Defend yourself,” she finished for him.

His lips pressed into that thin line again. It wasn’t a topic he liked, then. He took another deep breath before continuing. 

“I had to wait for you. I knew eventually you'd find your way here and I knew the choice should be yours. This was all my mistake. If there’s any way I can atone for it, it’s giving you back your life. Your freedom.” He laced his fingers through hers before he met her eyes evenly. "It's not much of a choice, I'll admit. But it is yours to make. The bond is for life, but that's easily remedied." 

Her breath hitched at his implication. "I can't—last night, you said—it's not—" 

He shushed her by placing a finger on her lips. "You don't have to decide now, or even soon." Those blue eyes, so soft, so sad, made her heart break for him. "Just think about it." 

With that he pulled away from her, breaking her grip on his hand gently, and the flames around her disappeared as he transformed again. He took off in a whoosh of wind that blew her hair back over her shoulders. She watched him glide in a slow, lazy loop around the top of the tower before perching there, his wings fluttering as he settled, his claws easily finding purchase on the thatched roof. 

She stood and shaded her eyes against the sun to look at him again. He laid his head down on his claws and closed his eyes, letting the sun spill over his rippling scales. The way his body draped across the roof reminded her of a black satin ribbon tossed casually across a bedpost. His tail was hanging over the edge of the roof, and the blue tuft at the end flicked occasionally. 

Admiring him like this, she understood now why he'd said humanity was a curse to him. She imagined it must feel cramped and uncomfortable to be forced to wear a different, smaller, weaker form night after night. Like trying to sleep in a dress that was five sizes too small. No wonder he looked so tired. She wrapped her arms around herself just thinking about it. 

All this time she'd thought she was truly cursed. But she'd had her family to help her, the people of her village that—while they might not have always understood—were always there for her. And most days she'd lived normally; she'd even forgotten about it entirely on occasion. 

He'd unknowingly pledged his life to her. A mistake he'd paid for by sacrificing his family, his freedom. And he was willing to sacrifice still more.

It wasn't right. He shouldn't have to pay for saving her life. He shouldn't have to sacrifice anything else for her.

She lowered her eyes, blinking against the spots in her vision left from the sun, and headed back inside to leave him to his quiet contemplation. 

When she reached his room again, she let her eyes slip over the dented and burned pieces of armor he’d collected and instead moved to his stack of books, running her fingers lightly over the spines as she read the titles. She recognized a few of these, too. Carefully, she pulled one out of the stack and flipped through the pages absent-mindedly until she came across the illustration she remembered. 

One of the sorcerers that had come through was showing her this page. He'd shown everyone in town this page. He’d proclaimed to anyone who would listen that this, _this_ was what would take down that monster. 

She chuckled quietly as she thought about it now. Monster, prince, shapeshifter, thing, sorcerer, dragon. He had so many names to the townspeople, yet no one had ever used his actual name. Luka. It suited him. 

She sat down to read by the open window, only vaguely registering the height before she dangled one leg off the edge, bracing her back against the solid stone wall. 

What she wouldn’t give for a pillow. 

Her eyes slid over to the corner. There was another silhouette left in the ashes of the pillows, this time a doubled figure: hers on top of Luka’s. 

A flush of heat crept up her cheeks. He’d been human this morning. She’d been curled up against him and he’d been human and that was somehow weirder than being curled up against a _dragon_ like she had been last night. 

She forced her eyes back to the page as her blush deepened. She was too distracted to absorb any of the words, so she laid that one aside and went back to searching the stack of titles. There was a wide range, although most of it seemed to be about dragon lore. No wonder he was so knowledgeable _now._ But there were other things, too. Books about spells, music, fairy tales, poetry. A couple here and there about foraging and cooking. She wondered how he’d gotten them all. 

There was one small leather bound book with no title. When she pulled that one out, the edges of the pages were singed, and looked as if they had been leafed through often. She let the pages fall open in her hands and found scrawling handwriting, along with what looked like dates at the top. Or at least, as she flipped through, the pages were numbered somehow. 

A journal. His journal? 

She snapped it shut and set it back on the stack. He hadn’t said she couldn’t look at his things, but she also hadn’t asked. Her curiosity was burning in her chest, but instead of giving into it, she listened to her grumbling stomach and made her way back down the stairs. 

His eyes were closed, but his attention was on her as she poked around the edges of their clearing. She didn’t know how, but she just felt it. She knew he was watching as she found a small thicket of blackberry bushes and pricked her fingers on thorns trying to get to the luscious prize, as she fumbled her way through making a small trap for any nearby rabbits, and as she decided to start testing the limits of their tether. 

That last one, he might not have known about, but she was, in the back of her mind, wondering how far she could go before that barrier—that blinding pain—started ripping them apart.

She could feel it, here and there, tugging at her. Once he let out a quiet grumble, but when she turned to look at him, he hadn’t moved. He hadn’t turned to look at her, and he hadn’t made any kind of motion to stop her. 

When she felt the tug again—she’d found a honeybee hive, and she was trying to figure out if it’d be worth harvesting later—she glanced back at him before she took a step forward. 

She could say she was trying to reach for it, if he asked. 

One more step forward, and a zing shot straight through her. 

From behind her, she heard what was now the telltale whoosh of his landing, and she felt the thud of his claws as he hit the ground near the tower. He growled, low and anxious, in the back of his throat. 

She turned to face him, and smiled to let him know she was okay, then locked eyes with him as she took another step backwards. 

His claw raised as if to take a step with her, but he resolutely set it back down and huffed out a plume of smoke at her. As she took another step back, he started pacing, that low growl rumbling through him, his scales ruffling in irritation. With another step back, she felt what was now a familiar tug. She took note of the distance between them before she stepped back one more time. 

She winced as that zing came back, and he let out a whine at the same time. Eyeing the distance between them, she was a good ten meters away from him. About two full body lengths for him, or just barely past the edge of the clearing if he stood in the middle. She glanced back at him and his glowing blue eyes were entirely focused on her, but he seemed to understand what she was doing. Or at least she hoped he understood. 

One more step backwards made that zing turn into a bolt that thrummed in time to her heartbeat, and she looked down to find that her fingers were sparking with white fire. 

She gasped and fell forwards, back into the safety of the clearing, and he was there to catch her. As she leaned onto his scales they melted away, and then he was holding her up with his arm slipped under hers. Before her flames flared to life around her, he swept her feet up to carry her back to the stone path and set her down safely, although he kept his arm around her shoulders. 

“Trying to run away again?” he asked, his voice low and breathy from the effort. 

She straightened herself up and leaned her head back against him. “As far and as fast as I can,” she muttered, although she managed to smile to let him know she was being flippant. 

His lips pressed into that thin line again and she backtracked shyly. “I just wanted to know the limit.” 

“Well, now you know. What good does that do?” 

She looked over at him, at the harsh edges of his face under the ragged lines of dark hair that flopped unevenly over his ears. Those dark circles under his eyes, made more obvious because he was white with… pain? Fear, maybe? The way he was still gripping her shoulder tightly made her think it was maybe the latter. She blushed as she pushed that thought away and dared to answer him.

“You said we could leave, if we were together.” 

He stiffened against her. “I did.” 

“And I thought…” She bit her lip as she hesitated. She didn’t know him well enough to know how he’d react if she told him the real reason. That she thought he might want to see his family again, if they were still out there. That she was willing to help him look for them. 

“I thought that maybe… eventually… we could go back to my village?” She finally decided to say. “For supplies, and... ” She fidgeted, twisting her hands together. “And maybe to see my family.” 

He flinched at the word, then took a deep breath, in through his nose and out through his mouth before he turned to look at her. “It’s a bad idea,” he said softly. 

“You only think that because—” 

“Because your village is the one sending people to kill me,” he finished irritably. 

“But they wouldn’t know it’s you! You look human at night and… and they wouldn’t know…” 

“You really want to lie to your family like that?” 

She couldn’t think of a response, so she closed her mouth and looked down at her feet, abashed. 

“As much as I might appear human,” he continued after a tense pause, “I’m not. And we can’t pretend I am. I understand wanting to see your family. Trust me, I do.” He squeezed her shoulders to him almost involuntarily, but she didn’t know if he was comforting her or himself. 

“But if they knew what I was they’d most likely kill me on sight and you and I both know that.” 

There was another pause between them and he took another deep breath. She could almost picture him letting out a plume of smoke as he exhaled. 

“Don’t…” He tipped her chin up to look in her eyes, and his thumb stroked along her jaw softly. “Don’t scare me like that again.” 

She nodded as if in a daze, stunned by the sincerity in his voice. He released her from that intense gaze and turned his face to check the fading light before he pulled away from her, although he let his fingers slip past hers slowly, and his transformation took over in slow motion. He took off and went back to his perch, changing his position on the roof to stay in the light that was starting to fill their clearing with a golden-orange glow. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette and Luka decide to be friends and Luka gets some much-needed sleep before an uninvited guest stops by

Later that evening, she waited for him as she watched the sky streak through with pink and purple from her spot by the window. As if on cue, Luka glided down from the roof and landed in the courtyard again, and her flames flickered to life around her. Of course, he would know the time of day the change hit as well as she did. 

She heard his footsteps coming up the stairs. When he saw her, he stopped, hanging in the doorway as if unsure if he should enter or not. There was a pause between them, as each waited for the other to say something. He tapped his slender fingers against the stone archway rhythmically. Finally, he sighed. 

"Um, earlier… you mentioned supplies," he said softly. "I can get you anything you want. All you have to do is ask." 

Her curiosity got the better of her. "How would you manage that?" 

"There's someone who passes through occasionally. A friend. I can give him a list." He glanced over to the corner and smirked. "I've already got pillows down." 

She blushed all over again. He chuckled and came over to sit opposite her, dangling his leg just as she was.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" he asked after a moment, following her line of sight out over the mountains.

He was probably talking about the view, but she was watching the fires flickering to life in the streets of her village down below and in the homes of everyone she knew and loved. Her parents would be sitting down to supper right about now. She wondered if he was right about them. What they would say if they knew of her fate. 

She hummed to avoid answering him. In the corner of her vision, she saw him look over at her, but she almost felt like if she didn't keep her eyes on it, the village would disappear entirely.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly.

She let out an incredulous scoff, smiling despite the traitorous tear that slipped down her cheek. 

"Whatever for?" 

"For… earlier. For trapping you here. For cursing you. For... everything." 

"You don't need to apologize, Luka." She wiped her cheeks hurriedly and sighed before she tore her eyes away to look at him. "You saved my life. I can't possibly repay you for that." 

She started to reach out to take his hand, but pulled back, remembering the effect she would have on him. Instead she tucked her hair back behind her ear. 

Maybe we can be friends,” she said shyly, “if you want.” 

He didn’t answer right away, and when she glanced up at him he was miles away, his eyes still on the horizon, his profile thrown into sharp relief from the fading light. When he turned to face her, she jumped like she’d been caught at something, and for the first time since she’d met him, his smile reached his eyes. 

“I’d like that.”

For some reason—she didn’t know if it was the low tone of his voice or those intense eyes or the way he sounded like he truly meant it—she blushed all the way to the roots of her hair. 

He released her quickly and leaned back to lay on the stone floor, dangling both his legs off the side and staring at the ceiling instead of at her. Without those eyes on her, her blush cooled and she let out a breath before she scooted back and mirrored his position. 

“Although I’m still half-expecting you to murder me in my sleep,” he muttered before he turned his head to look at her, his sideways grin entirely at odds with his words. 

She shrugged and scooted a bit closer to him so their heads were leaning together, not quite touching. “I’d at least wait until morning. Without pillows, you’re the comfiest thing here.” 

“Good to know. Maybe I’ll strike them from my list then, self-defense and all that.” 

A realization hit her as she stared up at the ceiling with him and she started giggling. “You know something? I didn’t even bring a weapon.” 

He let out a snort of laughter. “Some dragon killer you are.” As her giggles overtook her, he quirked his eyebrows and that teasing grin grew. “What were you gonna do, throw a bucket of water on me and expect me to go out like a candle?” 

She shoved his shoulder, completely beyond speech. At her brief touch, his eyes turned to slits again and he waved his forked tongue at her while he had it. 

“Though that still implies the foresight to bring a bucket of water, which you also neglected,” he continued. 

She waved at him to stop as a stitch started forming in her side, but he pushed on, apparently enjoying making her laugh. “No, no, I know, you thought you’d slay me with your feminine wiles.” He was laughing with her now. As she made to shove his shoulder again, he squirmed away. “You thought I’d fall so madly in love with you I’d die on the spot, that’s it, that’s what happened.”

She rolled over into his side, laughing harder than she ever had before, only partly intending to stop his tirade. His laughter faded into a soft hissing as his scales replaced the broad chest she’d been leaning on. 

Their laughter quieted together and she looked up at him. When he’d changed, he’d laid his head back again and closed his eyes and his bright blue fire was flaring in his throat. She shifted so she was more within his protective coil as his tail came up to curl around her. His wings were splayed out across the floor and she hesitated before she ran her hand over the delicate membrane. 

Something like a hum came out of him, although it was deep and rumbly. A purr? That wasn’t quite it either. She traced the ridges of the bones that stood up and he shivered before he grumbled good-naturedly and pulled them away from her, turning on his side instead with her tucked into the curve of his stomach. 

“What? Are you ticklish or something?” 

He kicked her lightly with his back claw, pretending it was because he was adjusting, but even in dragon form he had a wicked smirk. 

“Fine, keep your secrets. You’ve got like a thousand books on dragons. I’ll figure it out myself.” 

He made that humming sound again as she settled into place with him, already resigned to using him as a pillow until further notice. But he  _ was  _ comfortable, that hadn’t been a lie. And he  _ was  _ warm. She fell asleep easily, only a minute or two behind him. 

* * *

She woke as the first rays of light streamed into the open window. Carefully, she extricated herself from the hold he had on her and managed to stand away from him before their bond forced them to switch. He didn’t even move, and if it weren’t for his heavy breathing she would’ve really worried about him. 

True to her word, she started in on her research as she let him sleep. And as it turned out, dragons could be ticklish. Hers definitely was. She tucked that knowledge away for the next time he was teasing her.

Her stomach grumbled about mid-morning, so she went out and gathered what she could within the limits of their tether. Based on his reaction yesterday, she didn’t think he’d be too happy if she woke him by yanking at it again. When she climbed back up, he’d shifted to pull his tail in between his claws, but other than that, he was still solidly passed out. 

The journal tugged at her curiosity again. Her eyes slid over to him. The little pink forked tips of his tongue were just barely poking out between his lips. Completely out. She couldn’t help but smile. For all that huffing and grumbling he’d done yesterday, he was kind of cute as a dragon. 

Still, she didn’t want to sniff around in anything too personal unless he was willing to let her, so she hid it under a few different books and tried to pretend it wasn’t there. 

When dusk started to steal her light to read by, she snuck out again for food and came back to tuck herself into his coils again. Unconsciously, he tugged her to him and draped his wing over them both, making that humming noise again as his fire flared to life in his chest. 

And just like the other night, as soon as she was curled up against him with his heavy, rhythmic breathing under her, she fell straight asleep. 

* * *

When she woke up ahead of him again for the second day in a row, she really did worry. Was it normal for a dragon to sleep so long? Was it okay that he was? If not, if he was sick, if something was wrong with him, was there even anything she could do? 

She bent her head back to his books with an entirely different question to answer, keeping an eye on him the entire time, ignoring her grumbling stomach as the sun climbed its way through the sky. 

Finally, when the tower was just starting to cast a shadow on the clearing, he groaned and lifted himself up on his claws. He looked around blearily until he found her, then loped over to rest his chin on her shoulder. She pushed back from the table, eyeing the stacks of very flammable paper she’d been leafing through. 

“How long was I out?” His voice in her ear made her jump, even though she knew he was there. He straightened up to lay his hand on her shoulder instead. 

“Almost two days.” 

He hummed in response. It was different from the hum he made as a dragon, but reminded her so strongly of the noise he'd made when she was in his coils that her stomach did an odd little flip. She stood and turned to wrap her arms around his waist and hug him tightly, nuzzling into his shoulder as she did. He stiffened at first, surprised by her gesture, but laid his arm across her shoulders to return the hug.

“Don’t scare me like that,” she grumbled, headbutting him as she did to emphasize her point. “I thought you were actually dying or something.” 

He chuckled as he started rubbing her back in comforting circles. “I don’t think I’ve slept like that…” he started, then paused to think. “Ever. I’ve never slept like that before.” He looked down at her in his arms and smiled warmly. “I guess having my savior around really does help.” 

Without thinking about it, she reached up to trace the circles under his eyes. As she smoothed the pads of her thumbs over the fragile skin, she couldn’t tell for sure, but she thought they looked lighter. He certainly seemed more relaxed than he had been yesterday. 

"I'm glad you got some sleep." 

His cheeks warmed under her touch and he reached up to pull her hands away, stepping back as he did. Her blush answered his as she realized she'd been standing maybe a little too close to him. He cleared his throat and looked away, over to the table that was strewn with his books. 

"You've been busy." 

"Just reading. Catching up, you know." 

"Anything interesting?" 

She bit her lip as she hesitated. "Well, the one I'm interested in I haven't read yet." 

“Which one?” 

She pointed to her stack, unwilling to go near the stack of paper and set it aflame, but also unwilling to let go of his hand. He followed her direction and dug through the pile one-handed until he landed on the small leather bound journal.

"I forgot about this thing." He sat in her chair and she kept a hand on his shoulder as he flipped through the pages. "I wanted to learn to read and write. My friend, the one I told you about, he helped me. Although I have to admit I wasn't the best student." He chuckled again as he found a page that was ripped in half. "I had a temper, and a tendency towards tantrums. Honestly he probably taught me more about patience than anything else. Not intentionally, I'm sure, since patience is hardly in his vocabulary." 

Watching him flip through the pages, she could see it now, the illegible scrawl morphing itself into letters followed by words. Rips and holes and singed pages where he got frustrated, lessening as he got towards the end. 

"Do you care if I look at it?" she asked. 

He stiffened for a brief moment before he visibly relaxed and laid it back down on top of her pile. "If you want. There's not much there, really." 

"Lukaaaa!" Someone sang from below, loudly enough for it to carry up to them, and terribly off-key. 

"Speak of the devil," Luka muttered. 

Marinette turned her head to look out the window, but whoever was there was approaching from the other direction. 

"Is it your friend?" she asked.

“Come on, you great scaly beast! I know you can hear me, and I haven’t got all day!” 

Luka’s lips pressed together into that thin line, but also curved up into a smile. His thumb rubbed against her wrist lightly, apparently taking comfort from their joined hands. As an answer, he tugged her gently towards the stairs, and she followed, wondering who it was that could make him so instantly on edge and excited at the same time. 

When they got to the bottom, Luka stopped and turned back to her. “I have to warn you. He can be a little… well, odd. He…” He chuckled, embarrassed, before he continued. “He thinks he can see the future. Or, I don’t know, maybe he actually does, but it doesn’t make a lot of sense to me. If you’re not sure what to say, do this—” He held up his free hand with his thumb tucked over his middle and ring fingers with his index and pinky fingers extended all the way up. She mimicked the gesture and he nodded in satisfaction. 

“Perfect. It means…" He paused to think then shook his head. "Okay, honestly, I don’t know what it means. Some sort of music he swears is all the rage in the future." 

He stopped and looked at her, his eyes brighter than she'd ever seen them, and grinned before he took a quick breath in through his nose and let it out through his mouth and shook his shoulders as if settling his scales.

"Kid! Where you at? Seriously, you gonna make an old man—" 

The voice yelped before a thud resounded through the clearing and Luka hid a snicker behind his hand as he walked out with Marinette onto the stone path. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luka's friend comes to visit and brings with him something that will help Marinette and Luka share the fire without having to touch each other, but it has an odd side effect for Marinette—she realizes that she likes being close to Luka, and what's more, he likes being close to her, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so, if you haven't already, please please pretty please go read [The Great and Powerful Sorcerer Stone](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29739831) by the lovely [verfound](https://archiveofourown.org/users/verfound/pseuds/verfound). I leaned pretty heavily on it to write this chapter (and it's a really fun read 😁)

When they walked out, Marinette didn’t see anyone, but she did hear a steady string of curses from somewhere near the tree line, along with a tree creaking under weight it wasn’t meant to hold. Luka snickered again and told her to wait as he pulled away, transforming instantly and prowling towards the racket. 

“We talked about the booby traps, kid!” The voice grouched, clear enough for Marinette to hear. There was a quick snap of rope, another yelp, and a thud, quickly followed by Luka’s hissing laughter. 

“Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up. What took you so long, anyways?” 

Luka loped back into view, leading an odd looking man with bright purple hair stuck up in all directions, metal looped all the way up his ears, flowy black and violet harlequin robes over black and yellow striped hose, and an angry scowl. He was rubbing his backside, as if he’d fallen on it. 

Marinette’s face flamed into a blush when she noticed the direction they were coming from and figured out what had happened. The snare she’d set up. Luka’s friend had triggered it and gotten stuck in the tree. But her blush cleared and a grin broke across her face instead as she realized who it was. 

“Jagged!” She ran towards him and hugged him tightly around the waist. 

“Hey! It’s the baker’s girl!” 

He returned her hug and swept her off her feet to spin her briefly as she giggled the whole way. Just like every other time he’d come into the bakery since she was almost fourteen years old. He’d become a family friend after he helped her parents put out the fires—figurative and literal—between her and the mayor’s daughter. 

He only stopped through the village occasionally, but every time he did he always bought up enough bread to feed an army, tucking it away into enchanted pockets. And he always had the _best_ stories, even if he insisted on singing some of them along with his “cursed” mandolin that never sounded quite right. She’d grown to love it though, and she liked to think it was a sound from some other world. 

Luka snorted, engulfing them both in a plume of smoke. Marinette waved it away from her face as Jagged set her back on her feet. When the smoke had cleared, Luka was scowling, but not at her. At Jagged. He had a challenge in his eyes that Jagged waved off along with the smoke. 

“What, you think _I_ made all that bread I brought you?” 

“That was for Luka?” Marinette asked brightly.

“Course! Case you hadn’t noticed, he’s a scrawny little thing. Gobbled it up as soon as he saw it, every time. A’int that right, kid? And the questions! You wouldn’t believe, he’d pester me until I told him all about—”

Another snort, laced with sparks this time, was aimed at Jagged. He danced away, patting out the embers that landed on his robes. 

“Geez! Don’t have to get all moody on me. How’s that for gratitude, eleven years I've been bringing you anything you ever asked for, taught you everything you know, never asking for nothing in return, you think you could say thank—” He cut off with a yelp as Luka sent another shower of sparks his way. 

Marinette rushed to Luka and threw her arms around his neck, cooling his fire. He was still irritated, but he put his arm around her waist, returning her embrace as if to let her know it wasn’t directed at her. 

“You’ve never had an issue with the plundered gold I gave you, either, so don’t act all innocent,” he grumbled at Jagged. 

“ _Gave_ being the key word there.” Jagged snapped back. “These were new, too!” He whined, pointing out the scorched holes his trailing sleeves now sported. 

“Serves you right. Eleven years and you still haven’t learned not to taunt a dragon.” 

Marinette glanced up at Luka and he was smirking, apparently pleased with himself for ruining something of Jagged’s. Almost like this was an entirely normal interaction for them. 

“Guess you don’t want what I brought, then? Fine, I’ll just be on my merry way.” Jagged spun on his heel and made to walk down the path. “Bet the king could pay better for all this junk anyways, I mean, not that he needs it, but, hey, if you don’t want it…” 

Luka sighed and shook his head. “Whatever you’ve got, I’ll take it.” 

Jagged stopped mid-step, but didn’t turn around. Luka’s grip tightened on Marinette’s waist. 

“I’m sorry about your robes,” he added, begrudgingly. “I’ll give you a little extra to have them mended.” 

At that, Jagged spun back around, grinning, and pulled his mandolin off his back. The neck had cracked in half, apparently as he’d fallen from the trap, and his grin slipped to an almost comical grimace as he brandished it at Luka. 

“This! This is why I said no more bloody booby traps! Can’t you just burn ‘em to a crisp and be done with it? Ya great, overgrown lizard, I swear, every time I've got this thing just the way I want it you just—” He kept muttering to himself as he fitted the wood back together carefully. When he took his hands away, it was magically all in one piece again. He shook the repaired instrument at Luka as if it were a sword instead of a piece of hollow wood with strings strung across it. 

“You’re lucky this wasn’t my neck!” 

Luka squeezed her to his side again, and his wicked smirk had come back. “Well, at least this time, I wasn’t the one to blame.” 

Jagged’s eyes and the makeshift sword snapped to Marinette and she blushed all over again. “It was meant for a rabbit,” she muttered. 

For the first time, Jagged seemed to realize how close they were standing, and the way their arms were looped around each other’s waists. 

“I told you, kid! I knew she’d stay! And you were worried, psh, I’ve known the baker’s girl too long. She couldn’t slay a butterfly!” 

Luka tensed beside her. “She hasn’t made any decisions yet, Jagged.” 

Jagged just shook his head at Luka, grinning, and dug in the neck of his robes to produce two silver chains, with smooth matte black stones dangling from them. “I’ve been saving these for when she made it up here. Don’t ask me how I got ‘em—” he tossed a wink at Marinette at that “—but they’re very special.” 

He set his mandolin on its end and admonished it to stay and it stood on its own, upright, at his side. With his hands freed, he carefully pulled the chains off his neck and laid the gems in his palm for them to look at. 

“Heartstone,” he announced proudly. “Best thing for a soul bond like the one you’ve got. It’s one stone, split in two, so they resonate with each other.” 

“Jagged—” Luka warned, right as Marinette asked, “What do they do?” 

“Well, since you asked,” Jagged said pointedly, shooting a glance at Luka before continuing. “They act as a sort of container if you will. Makes it so you don’t have to cling to each other for dear life like that.” 

He slung one chain around Marinette’s neck and pressed the other into Luka’s hand since he refused to bow his head to let Jagged put it on him. As soon as the stone touched Luka, Marinette’s flames were pulled into her half of the stone so it crackled happily at the base of her throat, and there was a bright blue glowing underneath Luka’s fingers, too. He shivered as his scales slid over his forearms, but he stayed on two legs. Marinette pulled away from him gently, more to test the heartstones than from a need to separate from him. 

Even though they weren’t touching, they stayed the way they were. 

“They work!” She shouted, more from surprise than anything else. 

Luka was gripping the stone in his hand so hard his knuckles were white. “She hasn’t made her decision, yet,” he said quietly, although there was danger hidden in his low tone. “Jagged, you can’t just—” 

“Sure I can, m’b’y!” Jagged stood in between them and clapped Luka on the shoulder. “We’re friends, after all, ain't we? I can be generous every once in a while.” 

“Luka, if you don’t want them—” Marinette started. 

“It’s not about me, Marinette,” he said, still in that small, quiet tone. “It’s never been about me.” 

Jagged rolled his eyes and clapped Luka on the back of the head, making him stumble forward before he turned to glare back at Jagged, his eyes narrowed to dangerous slits. Jagged examined his nails nonchalantly.

“It’s a gift,” Jagged said, with a threat laced through his casual tone. “Take it, leave it, hurl it into the woods if you want, makes no difference to me.” 

Luka’s eyes slid over to Marinette. She was standing behind Jagged, watching the two of them face off with her hand over her mouth. He glanced at the gem hanging around her neck, then back up to her face. Something vulnerable was flickering across his expression despite his tense posture. Hope? Fear? He was so closed off that she couldn’t tell which. Maybe a little of both. Afraid to get his hopes up. 

“I’m staying,” she said, loud enough for them both to hear her. “My decision is made, Luka, I want to stay with you.” 

The fight drained out of him and the tension between the two of them dissipated as quickly as it had started. Jagged pulled Luka into a quick hug, ruffling his hair as he did, then let him go to grab his mandolin. 

“Great! That’s all settled, now we can celebrate!” He tuned it to whatever incorrect notes he seemed to deem appropriate before he started yowling along to it, partly singing, partly shrieking. Marinette winced as Luka gravitated back to her side. 

“You didn’t have to do that,” he murmured in her ear. His hair was sticking up where Jagged had mussed it. With a grimace, he put the chain around his neck to match her. 

She reached up to run her fingers through his hair to fix it. When his eyes met hers again—those serpentine slits in the center of that bright blue—the fire around her stone sputtered erratically at the same time her heartbeat kicked up a notch. She pulled her hand away shyly. 

“Taking time to think about it wouldn’t have changed my decision. And Jagged meant well, I’m sure. These do really seem to help.” She looked down and slid the pad of her thumb over the smooth black stone. The fire played over her fingers as she touched it, but stayed contained. 

He hummed in response and turned his eyes back to Jagged’s performance. He was going on as if he were playing for the whole village, even though not even the two of them were listening. There was an odd sense of peace that had washed over Luka. Like her decision was the last thing keeping him on edge and now that she’d made it, he could let himself relax. 

His words from the other night came back to her. _“I’m still half-expecting you to murder me in my sleep.”_ Teasing in tone, but a grain of truth had been nestled within the joke. She wondered if he had even been planning on fighting back had she decided—

Resolutely, she reached out to loop her arm through his so she could lean her head on his shoulder. Like the other times she’d shown him affection, he stiffened at first, and she felt him look over at her. But then he laid his hand over hers and sighed against her. 

When the sun was starting to set, Jagged finally laid his mandolin aside and pulled a veritable feast out of his enchanted pockets, complete with a grass-stained blanket that he laid out for them as if he’d done it thousands of times. Marinette sat close to Luka, still not entirely trusting the heartstone, but the blanket didn’t burst into flames and neither did she. She giggled and looped her arm through Luka’s again, leaning into him because she could and not because she had to. Luka’s mouth twitched into what could’ve been a smile and his thumb skated across the back of her hand gently. 

But when she caught sight of the bread Jagged had brought with him, stamped with a terribly familiar signature, her breath hitched and Luka tensed up again beside her. 

“You saw my parents?” she asked quietly. 

Jagged shared a loaded look with Luka and they had a silent battle between them. Luka shook his head the slightest amount and Jagged frowned. 

“I did,” he answered her. “They’re all good, even managed to teach me a thing or two while I was there. Although…” He trailed off, breaking the bread between them as he did. 

“What?” Marinette asked. Luka’s hand wrapped around hers and he gave her a small squeeze. “What’s wrong?” 

Jagged glanced up at Luka one more time before he met Marinette’s eyes. “They’re in mourning.” 

“Mourning? What—” She felt her eyes widen as she caught his meaning. “They don’t know I’m okay. Luka, they don’t know!” She shook his arm frantically, but he was as unmoving as stone. 

“The tailor’s boy seems to have a notion of avenging you.” Jagged was speaking to Marinette, but his eyes had flicked over to Luka’s. “Some misplaced version of chivalry or valor, but he’ll be making his way up sometime soon.” 

A heavy pall fell over the two of them. Marinette looked between them, aghast, and the happy blue flame consuming the stone at her throat turned white and started crackling. 

“But we can talk to him!” she cried, startling them both. “He’ll see I’m okay and I can explain and he won’t come here and Luka won’t have to—” She sucked in a sharp breath. 

“Marinette—”

She shook her head. “You _can’t_ , Luka.” Her voice broke on his name and he grimaced again. “He’s my friend, and he doesn’t know, and… you just _can’t_.” 

She fought against the tears that were gathering at the corners of her eyes, glaring at him fiercely instead. He looked from her to Jagged. Jagged just shrugged, and Luka sighed. 

“You’re right. And I won’t. I promise.” He squeezed her hand again to emphasize his point. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes before he spoke again. “We’ll go to your parents. Explain things. Hopefully stop your friend from doing anything he’ll regret. And then we’ll come back here.” When his eyes opened again, they fell on her, and even though his gaze was filled with warmth and certainty, it was almost like his features were drawn tight. “Okay?” 

“Thank you,” she said, and she stretched up to kiss his cheek. He jolted when her lips touched his skin, and she pulled away, blushing, but he kept his hand wrapped around hers and gave it another squeeze to let her know it was okay. 

Jagged cleared his throat, but he was smiling as he started yammering on about other things. Some of it Marinette understood, but Luka was right, he talked a lot about the things he’d “Seen.” As he strummed at his mandolin, even in between bites of their supper, he ranted to her about “perfume ads” and “charts” and “baby-faced newcomers”—whatever any of that meant. 

Luka smiled at her and gestured with his head. She held up the sign he’d shown her and Jagged seemed to like it because he stood and started playing his mandolin in an odd, fast, shrieky way she’d never heard him do before. When he played like that, the out of tune notes almost blended together and sounded… okay? If she listened with a kind of mental squint, that is. 

After supper, Jagged pulled more things out of his pockets, this time a bundle of books that he’d thought Luka would like and new clothes, although he apologized to Marinette that he hadn’t brought any for her. She shrugged and told him that since they were going to the village anyways, she could pick up a few things while she was there. Luka subtly pressed some gold into Jagged’s palm as they shook hands and Jagged grinned, tucking the coins away without saying anything about it. 

As Luka rattled off his list for next time, Jagged winked at Marinette when he mentioned pillows. She blushed all the way to the roots of her hair. 

The moon was out by the time Jagged was leaving the clearing, and he waved back at them before he disappeared into the trees. Somewhere in the distance, a branch thwacked against something solid and a loud twang of strings echoed through the clearing, followed by Jagged’s cursing. 

Marinette hid a giggle behind her hand and Luka chuckled with her. An awkward silence followed as they both paused to look at each other. The stone at Luka’s throat cooled to a dull red, flaring orange in time with his heartbeat as a smile warmed his expression. At the same time, hers flared white as that smile made her stomach do a little flip. 

He tucked the bundle of books and clothes under his arm, then threw out a hand for her, inviting her to take it, and she did. Although when his fingers laced through hers she felt like she’d swallowed a thousand butterflies. Every step up the tower made her blush more, but she couldn’t for the life of her figure out why. The only thing she could blame it on were the stones around their necks, making their connection blatantly obvious. He’d said it before, they shared the fire, and he’d helped her channel it before, but this was… different. 

Maybe because there wasn’t a need for them to be holding hands anymore, but she realized that not only did she still want to, but apparently so did he. 

When they reached the room at the top, he set the bundle down on the chair before he turned to her and slid the chain around his neck up over his head. He held onto the stone, though, as if asking if it was okay if he broke the resonance between them. She gulped and nodded. He set it resolutely on the table, where it became a lump of black stone again and her fire fled from her and arced across to him as he transformed fully. 

Her hand was still on what was roughly his shoulder and he let out what she felt was a sigh, then settled into what she recognized as his sleeping position. Curled tightly around himself, but with a small space now for her to step into. She was kneeling next to him, hesitating, when he looked over at her expectantly. He blinked at her, and the tuft of hair at the end of his tail flicked against her ankle. She didn’t know if it was because she’d spent some time around him, or if the heartstones had deepened something between them, but she understood that he was asking if she was okay. 

She looked away to hide the blush that crept onto her cheeks as her fingers dug into the thicker scales at the back of his neck. When another concerned flick ghosted across her skin, she shivered before she took a deep breath and smiled at him, settling into place in the curve of his stomach while also pushing a small, insistent thought to the back of her mind. 

_“Different,”_ it whispered, _“Something’s different.”_


End file.
